


To Talk Again

by Lorem_Yipsum



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Collage, M/M, Phone Operator - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 04:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5402693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorem_Yipsum/pseuds/Lorem_Yipsum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing goes right in Mingyu's life and now the internet cuts out, too. At least this operator's deep voice is soothing his mind.<br/>(Cheesy, phone operator AU one-shot based on a prompt I stumbled upon.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Talk Again

Mingyu had spent the entire weekend writing the one paper he absolutely needed to finish if he wanted to pass the class. But because the world hated him, his internet cut out the very moment he was about to submit it.

The next few hours were spent repeatedly phoning the internet company. At this time of night nobody was willing to pick up, even though they claimed to offer 24 hour service.

Since the only friend living in the same building spent his time at somebody else's apartment, he had no one to ask for help. And, as much as he hated to admit it - lately the interactions between Seungcheol and Jeonghan had been hard to watch, reminding him of the romantic void in his life.

With the phone-line’s waiting loop music stuck in his head, Mingyu went to bed. He stared at the ceiling tugged away under his pink blanket and got angry that no one beside his action figure collection was around to see his cute pouting face and pity him.

Woe was him.

 

 

As soon as he woke up and felt remotely capable of formulating a coherent thought, he called again. This time he reached an operator before the music looped.

“Hello. Welcome to the SuperDuperNet hotline. My name is-“

“Thanks f***. Finally. Okay, listen, you have to get me back my internet. My entire life depends on it, academically speaking.”

“Um, sure. I’ll do my best to-“

“It went out yesterday night and I couldn’t reach anyone. I have to leave for uni really soon. Any idea how long this will take?”

“I’ll look right into your case, Mister Kim,” said the operator apparently already looking at the user information since the phone line and the internet came as a combined package.

Mingyu felt a bit guilty for being so abrasive, but he was truly in a hurry and that’s what these operators were there for, right? This one sounded amazingly calm, not even raising the pitch of his voice the least. Or maybe his voice was just naturally ultra-deep.

The guy on the phone asked Mingyu to step up to the router and confirm a lot of digits printed on the back, that he read from wherever he was, accessing Mingyu’s user data.

Again Mingyu noticed how deep this voice was. That man had to be a huge, fifty year old professional bed time story reader. As the boy stood by his computer trying to reconnect according to what the operator told him, the back of his head began to tingle.

He got goosebumps.

And that was just from hearing a bunch of numbers over the phone.

Of course it was eight in the morning and that’s when the body is particularly stuffed with certain hormones, adding to the phenomenon commonly termed “morning wood”. It felt a little weird to get shivers running down his spine just by confirming that his network key was being processed, but there was no helping it.

The man from the hotline, who was with certainty an old, big guy, probably married with kids, just kept talking in his mystifying tone, that united monotonous buzzing you could fall asleep to with the temperamental inflections that gave the sound a distinguished character.

If time hadn’t been of great importance, Mingyu might have attempted to strike up conversation. His own tone had changed to something much more patient.

“Alright, I can send my file now. Everything seems to be back online. Thanks, um…”

He remembered that he didn’t catch the operator’s name but the man on the other end didn’t repeat his introduction.

“Anything else I can help you with, Mr Kim?”

“No, that’s it. And again, thanks. Hope to talk again sometime.”

“No problem. Have a nice day.”

“Uh, you too.”

 

 

Mingyu somehow managed to be late despite leaving early. Public transport was always an adventure. And now he was running, his carefully picked outfit getting disheveled. Even his hair was suffering – individual stands starting to break out of the position he had fought them into.

But he was still on time, if nothing else happened.

Something else happened in form of an attempt upon his life.

As he hurried across the road that separated him from campus he heard a shout from the side. Whipping his head around, he saw the inevitable collision ahead of him. A small guy on a bike with hair in dull pink speed right at him, unable to break in time.

Out of nowhere Mingyu was slammed to the ground. But not by a pixie on a bike. Rather, he was getting clutched tightly by a boy with regular, black hair, who ripped him out of the path of the two-wheeled assault vehicle.

The intertwined duo stumbled onto the road. Not really falling down but not quite catching themselves either. Mingyu’s hands hit the asphalt, shielding his coat from impact in the dust.

Meanwhile, the other boy half-fell several steps before coming to a halt and standing straight up again. He wasn’t that much shorter that Mingyu.

Looking behind him, Mingyu saw the biker flip him off with murder in his eyes. Without an apology the guy pulled the straps on his guitar case on his back tight and got back to pedaling.

Looking in front of him, Mingyu saw the boy who had saved if not his life so at least his immediate wellbeing. And that of his outfit.

“Th-thanks. Sorry, gotta go.”

They both rushed to the other side of the street and savior-boy stopped, looking around. Normally Mingyu would have loved to find out what the boy was looking for and help, but he couldn’t be late. Today was the first class of this lecture and attendance would be taken.

He bowed as deeply as he could, given his post-near-death-experience dizziness.

“I really have to rush, but thanks a lot. Hope to talk again sometime.”

The pale boy smiled knowingly. He seemed to want to say something, but just waved Mingyu to keep running.

 

 

Not only did Mingyu make it in time, he got a pretty good seat, too. Not in the very first row, but far enough ahead. Pretty much the ideal spot.

And who entered minutes later? Well, the professor, who was annoyingly late. But who entered just before that? The boy who had saved him from the wild biker – who then also showed up. Apparently, everybody and their dog was in this class.

Now he felt double bad about not helping the mysterious stranger. Not only had it been inconsiderate to run off, just for the unfounded fear of being late, no, he had gone to the same place anyway, and if the professor had been on time, the mysterious guy would have been late because Mingyu didn’t show the least amount of consideration.

 

 

The lecture continued and Mingyu did his best to pay attention. Occasionally, though, he snuck glances to Mister Mystery. That one had gotten a seat further ahead, apparently knowing a guy who had been reserving the seat for him.

His face was fun to watch. Not only because he was pretty – which he sure was – but because his expression jumped between spaced-out, resting b*tch face and WTF-confusion every few minutes. The way his lips curled with the latter expression was particularly enticing. Mingyu wondered what those lips would feel like on his.

Well, there went his attention.

An hour later, when class was over, he still didn’t get to talk to the boy. He had to rush to the next lecture. One where he knew the professor would be on time.

He seemed to live his life in a hurry these days.

 

 

The world once again proved that it was conspiring against him. His internet was out. The first thing he did was comfort himself with copious amounts of cheesy scalloped goods. The next thing he did was take a hot bubble bath. Then he called the hotline.

“Hello. Welcome to the SuperDuperNet hotline. I’m you operator Wo-“

“Oh, you’re the same as from before!”

“What? Erm, I mean excuse me?”

“Nothing, sorry. We talked today. Around eight. You um, you work there all day?”

Now that was just a dumb question, but Mingyu had felt the need to ease the man into the issue this time. To make up for all the rudeness he had displayed today to everyone who was nice to him. Which made no sense, since the guy on the phone had a job to do.

“No, actually,” said the operator a bit astonished. “Only in the morning and again now. I… I’m a student during the day. And I remember you. Same problem as before?”

“Yes. Wow, you’re good.”

The internet guy chuckled. His voice was as alluring as ever. Mingyu shook his head in a futile attempt to clear it. His love life was truly at a dead end if he thought about whether it was appropriate to ask out the service personnel. Also, the guy was obviously a big, old man, going by how sagely the powerful, rough voice sounded.

The issue was cleared up quicker this time and – hopefully – with a permanent fix added to the procedure.

It was the most surreal experience, but Mingyu felt almost dirty, as if he had been talking to a hotline for, well… payed erotic activities.

“Anything else I can help you with, Mister Kim?”

“Uh, I didn’t catch your name?”

The operator chuckled again. “Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo.”

“Thanks, Mister Jeon. I’m sorry for this morning. You were an excellent helper. Is there anywhere I can do for you? Give my recommendations to a supervisor or something?”

“Ha, thanks. No, that won’t be necessary. I barely ever work here anymore.”

Mingyu felt a little pang in his chest. How odd, that he had hoped to be able to call the man again at some point. Was that how lonely he felt? Maybe he should really give a try to one of those hotlines geared towards… more physical satisfaction.

“Have a good night, Mister Jeon. Hope to talk again sometime.”

“Haha, thanks. You too.”

 

 

The internet connection was perfectly stable from then on.

Regardless, Mingyu valued the occasional visit to the coffee shop near uni. He might not need the Wi-Fi but he sure could use being around other people for a little while to distract himself from the persistent thought that he didn’t have what Seungcheol and Jeonghan insisted to keep presenting right on his sofa whenever they were willing to keep him company.

The shop was packed that day. Quite unusual. Mingyu was about to turn back home when he spotted life-saver-boy.

He approached carefully.

“Um, hello?”

The pale boy looked up from his laptop, confusion on his face. “Oh, hi?”

“You… you don’t remember? You saved me from being overrun by that pixie on a bike. Hey, let me buy you a coffee. Whatever you want, just name-“

Mingyu’s phone rang. It was Seungcheol. Normally he could ignore his friend for a few minutes, but he had been the one calling first, not reaching Seungcheol the first time. It seemed he was going to have to be rude once more.

With an apologetic smile towards mystery-boy he picked up. Since there was no other seat available anyway, he gesture whether it was okay for him to sit down opposite of the stranger while saying hello to his friend on the phone.

Sitting down, taking off his jacket and discussing animatedly what to watch for movie night, all at once, the other boy at his table slipped from his consciousness.

When the conversation was over, Mingyu had worked himself in a little frenzy arguing for his preferred movie night option.

“Fine, have it your way again. But if you spend the whole time making out on my sofa again I’m switching out the DVDs and I won’t even ask you. Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your one-month-y-versary. Hope to talk again sometime.”

 He put his phone back into his coat pocket which was awkward to reach as he had draped it clumsily across his chair.

“So,” a deep voice said, “did you get a good mark on that paper on Tuesday?”

“Yeah, the professor said-“

Wait what? Mingyu turned around, his eyes widening.

The good looking stranger grinned from ear to ear.

“B-but h-how?” stuttered Mingyu.

“I had a hunch, but the way you said goodbye… I knew for sure.”

“Mister Jeon?”

“Haha, please no, call me Wonwoo. I was hoping it would be you. Over the phone you sounded really cute. Like a desperate puppy yelping for help.”

In real life the voice gained a three dimensionality that activated maximum goosebump level.

“Alright, Wonwoo. I also hoped… to talk again sometime.”

 

**` THE END`**

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted from asianfanfics. Now that i have an AO3 account i'll do that with all my fics eventually.  
> Drop me an encouraging line here or over there. Username is the same.


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